


Too Many Shots Or Just Enough

by Jester85



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 21:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jester85/pseuds/Jester85
Summary: How Thing One and Thing Two Became..... A Thing.





	Too Many Shots Or Just Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Just a stand-alone not related to my other works (unless you really want it to be, I guess).

There wasn't really some sudden epiphany, one of those cheesy rom com moments they might have mocked together, where two people get hit with realization like a bolt of lightning and run into each other's arms, or someone catches someone frantically at the airport.

It was just a million tiny little things that, piece by piece, each so small by themselves that they went unnoticed.

The way they were joined at the hip, so inseparable they even rode a two-seat bicycle around together, that Tom made Harrison his personal assistant on _Homecoming_ because the thought of not having Harrison with him for months didn't make any sense to him.

The way Harrison just went without question, to _Homecoming_ and then later to _Chaos Walking_.  In retrospect he may have been playing a bit of a lovesick puppy, following Thomas around the world without question, but at the time they didn't think anything of it.

They thought all best friends were like them.  They'd grown up together since they were kids, sure there were jokes and innuendos sometimes about how close they were, but they were like brothers, Haz the last adopted Holland bro, that anything else might be going on was laughable to them.

But by the time they were into, then out of their teens, things were subtly shifting.

Sitting a little too close together on the couch for movie night, bare shoulders pressed together, fingers brushing together in a shared bowl of popcorn, giggling together, turning to share their amusement, grinning so fondly into a face they knew as well as their own.  Finishing each other's sentences, reading each other's minds with a knowing look.

An instinctual need to sling an arm around a shoulder, or a waist, for closeness, for a touch, innocent and brotherly or so they thought.

Spending so much time together there was no time for dates.  In hindsight was it normal neither of them seemed to care?  Did they not care about dating others because they both felt, subconsciously, like they were already taken?

A drunken night with friends, stuffing their faces and knocking back shots and giggling hysterically over the worst movie they could find. 

In retrospect, they may have knocked back too many shots.  Or maybe just enough.

Everyone eventually cleared out, and it was just them because of course it was, Thing One and Thing Two, because at the end of the day it was always them together, the core, this unshakable Thing.

Haz's arm slung over Tom's bare shoulder and the smaller boy pressed up close into his friend because neither of them had ever had much use for personal space, and their faces turned at just the right moment, fond affectionate smiles and Haz's pale eyes meeting Tom's.

There wasn't some huge MOMENT in flashing neon signs.  No chorus of angels, no cheesy pop song montage.  One moment, Haz had his arm slung around Tom, and the next he just leaned over and kissed him, and they smiled into each other's kisses, like they'd done it a million times.

The freeze came after, when Haz pulled back a bit (but not too far) and there was a flicker of questioning, of uncertainty, and then Tom was wrapping a hand around the back of Haz's neck and pulling him back in, and they made out on the couch, arms and legs tangled together, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Maybe it was.

So no, it wasn't anything very dramatic.  There was no life-shattering sexual identity crisis.  Neither of them had any hang-ups about homosexuality, though they hadn't thought it applied to them; Tom was a theater kid and a ballet dancer, ffs, he had his share of gay friends, and Haz had once performed a bit of shirtless man-on-man performance art with another student that in retrospect was so homoerotic they laughed about where that came from.  So when their brains did that little "huh...we're into each other", it didn't shock or disgust them.  It was kind of "......oh.  Huh.  How about that shit."

So when Z stumbled out of whatever blanket nest she'd made for herself, bleary-eyed and hair everywhere, and caught them still up, Tom's arms wound around Haz's neck and legs in Haz's lap, mouths still lazily moving together, kissing like an old couple (maybe they kind of were), she just rolled her eyes and mumbled something about "bout fucking time".

There was no momentous change after that.  Things slid into place like they'd always been there, and really they had, just open and acknowledged.  They still touched as much as possible in public, arms slung around waists and shoulders (they just touched a lot more in private).  They still cuddled over movie nights and their fingers brushed together in their shared popcorn bowl.

And they still didn't care about finding time for dating other people.

They were still Thing One and Thing Two.  But they were also A Thing.  It was light and casual and carefree.  There weren't mushy dramatic declarations of eternal love.  They didn't need dramatic speeches about being each other's missing half, because they were and they always had been.

Haz loved Tom and Tom loved Haz.  They didn't need to make a big deal out of it.  They knew what they meant to each other.

The closest to any sort of Dramatic Outpouring came one overwhelmed evening, on the verge of the biggest premiere of a young career, arms around neck and face buried in shoulder.

A whisper, "I couldn't do this without you".

"You don't have to."  Simple, steadying, true.

That was all.  That was enough.

On to the next step.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
